


Making Amends

by hannahrhen



Series: Good, Giving, Game [15]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bad Decisions, Corporal Punishment, Dubious Morality, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Mild Kink, Oral Sex, Punishment, Spanking, Voyeur Tony, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-22
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 08:37:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/976722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Loki, God of Mischief, ends up bare-assed over Captain America’s lap.</p><p>(Future fic in the "Good, Giving, Game" 'verse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Amends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amberfox17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberfox17/gifts).
  * Inspired by [30 Day OTP Porn Challenge Fills](https://archiveofourown.org/works/953430) by [amberfox17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberfox17/pseuds/amberfox17). 



> Oops, I did it again.

Loki almost couldn’t hide his smile at Captain Rogers’ bewildered look. So he channeled the impulse into even bigger, all-innocence eyes and thin, concerned mouth.

“You--you want--”

“I think it’s necessary, don’t you, Captain?” he responded quietly. “You said the other day that this is a common form of punishment from your history. Given your role among these people, wouldn’t it be appropriate for you to--”

“Maybe you should talk to Tony about this.” Rogers was taking a step back, away from Loki, and that wouldn’t do at all. Though his direction might suit, Loki mulled as he surveyed the room’s layout and basically dismissed the captain’s words. “If you need someone to--”

“Stark wouldn’t understand.” Loki let out a weary sigh, all affectation. “He believes I should be forgiven for my crimes-- _he_ has forgiven me for my crimes. But I don’t believe everyone has.” A little raise of his eyebrows. “What about you?” Knew Rogers would interpret the question in more than one way.

Rogers’ slow backwards trajectory was taking him straight to the long, solid couch in the middle of the common area. They were alone--Tony was somewhere in the bowels of the building, examining their security systems, while the others remained at their governmental headquarters researching some new--petty--threat.

This space was perfect for what Loki had in mind. When Rogers didn’t answer, he pressed on: “You said that corporal punishment is common both within families and in the military--” And he kept talking as Rogers tried to object, to clarify. “--and I’m willing to respect that tradition, Captain.” He raised his arms in a gesture of offering. “I’m willing to submit to your punishment.” Slight emphasis on the “your,” with a deferential downward tilt of his head. Just a line in the water, with an invisible lure.

For a moment he got the barest hint of a suspicious look from Rogers, and Loki knew he was at the borderline of either success or failure. Tugged at the line one more time: “Stark doesn’t believe I deserve it. He thinks I am redeemed.” Peered up, eyes ridiculously wide again. “Do you, Captain?”

Yes, that did it. Rogers’ shoulders slumped a bit, and the line between his brows deepened. “Fine.” They stood there for a moment as Loki ... honestly couldn’t believe his fortune. Was about to be folded like a piece of paper by that enormous creature, all huge hands and broad shoulders. Loki stifled a shudder. Instead, he tried to observe Rogers neutrally as the man glanced around the room, then turned back to Loki.

“You want to do this ... here?” Rogers asked.

“I can think of no better place. Or time.” Loki tamped down his sudden urge to run at Rogers and climb him, and instead measured his slow steps in that direction, head lowered again and hands twisting together in apparent nervousness.

Rogers mirrored his movement, backing up until his calves hit the front of the sofa and then, with a huff, dropping into it heavily. He looked up at Loki. “Okay.” Visibly steeled himself. “ _Okay._ Come here.” His voice had changed in tone to that one Loki didn’t hear enough of--command, mastery, that sort-of-resigned, leading-his-men-to-ruin tone that reminded Loki of the good moments of his youth, watching Odin's guard train as arousal hummed in his blood.

It gave him shivers. The _best kind_ of shivers. The ones he felt all the way to his groin. _Oh._ Loki reached for his trouser buttons--

“Wait--what are you doing?”

“Isn’t this type of punishment usually administered this way?” Loki asked innocently. Realized he needed to tone it down a bit when that suspicious look returned. “Did I misunderstand your story the other day?” Rogers’ story, incidentally, had been a lighthearted one about some trouble he had gotten into as a boy, and how a neighbor had handled it. He knew some of Rogers’ hesitation was pure bewilderment at how his anecdote had been interpreted.

Whatever. He kept working at his fly as Rogers sought after the correct response--might as well not waste any time.

Loki earned another grim look. “Fine. Just--fine. Come over here.” Rogers pushed himself against the backrest of the sofa, broadening his lap and leaving enough room on either side of the wide seat for Loki to stretch out--to be stretched out.

Perfect.

Another shudder hidden.

Loki shoved down his trousers quickly but not the boxers underneath--might as well give Rogers something to work for. And, speaking of “something to work for,” just before Loki lowered himself over Rogers’ thighs, he grabbed a thin pillow from one of the armrests to create a barrier between Rogers and ... any clue that this scene wasn’t exactly what Loki was saying it was. If pressed, he would tell Rogers it was to protect the man’s body from Loki’s own angular form--no need to mention that the particular angle would be jutting out, thick and eager, soon enough.

But Rogers didn’t ask--curious.

Then Loki was lying face down, pelvis resting on the pillow over one of Rogers’ thighs, ankles propped up on an armrest. The upper half of his body was flat on the other side, top of his head near to pressing into the throw pillows there. His arms curved around his face, the perfect shield for what Rogers would read as his shame and contrition.

It wasn’t shame. He peered up briefly toward the corner of the room, confirmed where the nearest surveillance camera was positioned. This whole thing couldn’t have been set up any better, and Loki silently praised himself for his foresight and sheer--in this case--luck. Then he startled as he felt Rogers’ hand settle over the thin fabric covering his ass. The hand remained as that same low, commanding voice from earlier said, “Loki. Do you know why you’re being punished?”

And if Loki were still an adolescent, still quick to trigger, that would have been enough to make him spill right then, groaning his pleasure as he loosed his seed without even being touched. Instead he hid his quiver and said, in a voice with a hint of brokenness, “For ... my crimes against humanity?” he tried. Shrugged internally--that sounded good, anyway.

Rogers actually snorted, the arrogant, self-righteous-- “Yes, I suppose one could call it that.” And then--oh, oh, my--just as Loki had desperately hoped, Rogers began to tug down Loki’s underwear, to expose his buttocks. “This is how we do it, here, just FYI. Bare-assed.”

Now it was Loki’s turn to be a mite suspicious, but ... who cared. Oh, he could have melted into the rough sofa cushions at that moment. Instead, his breath hitched a bit, and he gave another pointed look to the camera: _I told you so_. Aimed his voice instead at the man above him. “Of course, Captain Rogers. Whatever you think is best.” He shifted a bit, accommodating his cock’s sudden need for more room in the guise of merely allowing the band of his underwear to settle at the tops of his thighs. But then Rogers put hands on Loki’s hips and shifted him more, perfectly situating him with his ass at the highest point over Rogers’ knees.

Loki swallowed a sound. This? Was going to ruin him, ruin him before it even started. Goddamn Stark and his--

That low voice again: “And now I want your hands behind your back--”

 _Ooohhh._ Bless Stark and his incredibly deviant, thoroughly erotic--

Loki twisted his shoulders just enough to get his arms offered up behind him, forearms crossed over each other, and felt his cock throb helplessly into the pillow as Rogers’ huge fingers circled his wrists and pinned them to his lower back. Tight enough to be at the edge of discomfort--and to remind Loki how he looked, trousers and pants around his thighs, back bowed slightly where his arms cinched him backward, feet pressing into the armrest on the other side of the sofa.

And one stern, no-nonsense giant of a man more than ready to administer punishment.

Rogers must have heard his little noise, all involuntary, because he asked, “Okay, then?”

“Oh, yes.” And then couldn’t help himself, as he stared directly at the camera. “Teach me a lesson, Captain.” Wiggled his toes. “Punish me _severely_.”

It didn’t take long--just a moment after the hand lifted off his ass. That first spank ( _Oh!_ ) was all warmth and pleasure curling from his ass up into his lower spine, and Loki already caught himself holding his breath, almost not believing his plan had actually worked. Let the breath out consciously, only through effort, just in time for the next blow to fall.

Rogers wasn’t-- _oh!_ \--Rogers wasn’t showing mercy, even as a warm up, perhaps because he actually considered this punishment, rather than Tony’s measured, luxuriant builds to Loki’s-- _oh!_ \--masochistic pleasure. No, the spanks were all hard, rapid-fire, and delivered-- _oh!_ \--with a wide palm, and spread fingers; after the first three or four, after his ass already had a steady throb, Loki couldn’t help but tense under each one. _Unh!_ His toes curled into the armrest at his feet, displacing a throw pillow there, and he arched his spine enough so that-- _oh!_ \--his face was easily seen from the corner of the--

 _“OH!”_ Another strong smack, right where his cheeks met above his thighs, near the waistband of his shoved-down trousers. Then Rogers settled into that spot, abusing it again and again as Loki tensed and jerked over his lap--over that infernal pillow that kept Rogers from discovering his motivations, yes, but also kept Loki from finding any kind of purchase. Or relief.

This was going to be punishment, indeed, squirming over Rogers’ lap while his stiff cock dribbled precome onto the obscuring pillow. If only he could get a hand beneath him and--

But then, almost as if Rogers could read his mind, the bitter, delicious torment stopped. While Rogers’ grip braceleting both his wrists remained tight and firm, his other merely hovered over Loki’s ass, giving off an alarming heat echoed by Loki’s own flesh, then settled there. Loki curved his neck around, met Rogers’ piercing blue eyes. “Why--,” he gasped. “Why did you stop?”

Rogers looked disbelieving, and Loki only put it to his state of extremis that he couldn’t tell if the expression were genuine. “Haven’t you learned your lesson yet?” was the response.

Maybe genuine? _Arrgh._ Too much thinking! Loki could have actually screamed it. Instead, he just gritted out, “No, not yet. I ... I don’t think so. I still feel--” Pretended to think about it. Pretended to be conflicted. “--evil. Yes, I still feel evil. _Keep going._ ”

And thank whatever demented childhood this Midgardian icon had, because--oh, he _did._

The spanking got even harder then--if possible, even more vicious, as Loki couldn’t help but try to squirm to evade some of the power of the blows. But it was no use--Rogers now was on a corrective mission, shifting his knees up to lift Loki’s ass higher, and raining down spank after spank on the already-sensitive, bruised heart of his buttocks. Loki panted for the air he couldn’t quite get into his lungs, and, once he caught the camera back in his line of sight, didn’t turn his face away again. Wanted to show what this lovely, morally upstanding hero could be reduced to when given a chance to chastise one so wicked and debased as Loki. Wondered if, in his own way, Rogers was enjoying this as much as Loki was.

Or _even more._

That thought, accompanied by a final, devastating blow, made Loki squawk in the most undignified way as his body spasmed outward. If it had been Tony “punishing” him, this would be the cue for Tony’s hand--or Loki’s, by Tony’s command--to worm beneath his hip, to grasp and work his cock until it spurted violently. Or, if Tony were feeling particularly ... masterful, he’d order Loki to his knees and release his own cock to the pleasures of Loki’s tongue, letting Loki’s arousal linger that much longer until getting satisfaction.

Instead, it was quiet for a moment, when all Loki could hear was the throbbing of his blood, echoed in the frustrated pulse between his legs. His erection clearly had no urge to subside as long as he was in his vulnerable position. He gave the hidden camera a dark look and hoped this was going to be made worth his while, in the end.

“That’s all I can do for you,” Rogers finally said, with a light few pats to Loki’s ass that made him realize just how much pain had been inflicted. He hoped Rogers didn’t hear his whimpers. Oh, Tony would worship the mottled bruises, yes, and Loki could almost feel them being traced by his lover’s own skilled tongue. For Rogers, he sighed brokenly--meant it, but knew that Rogers would interpret the cause differently:

Lesson learned.

So, time to extract himself. “Yes, Captain--I--,” he tried, as he wriggled back into his underthings while carefully not displacing the pillow. He got to his feet, with the help of Rogers’ large hands around his bicep and on his back. Delicious. Set his mouth on automatic until he was out of this scenario. “I thank you. I feel--” _Painfully far away from satisfaction, something I hope to remedy as soon as possible._ “--suitably chastened.” _Good enough._ He tugged back on his trousers, leaving the long-tailed shirt he’d strategically donned untucked. Like an adolescent again, yes, hiding his inappropriate erections.

If he left Rogers a little briskly after, and without meeting his eyes, well, he could blame that on his supposed shame.

***

Loki wasn’t surprised by what he discovered five minutes later in the bedroom. Tony, sprawled on his back on the bed, his own trousers and underwear shoved roughly down his legs, arms flung out at his sides, and drying come spattered over his lower belly and ruched-up t-shirt. The lights were low, and the screen along the wall displaying the living-room surveillance camera’s view, active, though the room itself was now uninhabited.

The color was still high on Tony’s cheeks.

“How long did it take you to come?”

Tony chuckled. “Not long,” he said, then stretched decadently. “It was like being fifteen again.”

Loki smirked, dropped a hand to where his cock swelled--a little hint. “I had almost the exact same response.”

Tony flopped even more dramatically on the mattress, still focused on the memory of his own pleasure. “I had to stop a couple of times--or I would have blown it as soon as he pulled down your shorts-- _Jesus._ ” Loki chuckled at the exaggerated groan, then just raised an eyebrow when he caught Tony watching him again, looking directly at the hand Loki had in front of his fly. “Can I help you with that?”

Finally.

“Oh, yes,” Loki sighed. “I’ll have your mouth, I think.” He waited for the nod before climbing onto the bed and settling with his knees on either side of Tony’s chest, snugged up under the man’s armpits. Tony’s hands went straight for Loki’s fly as Loki reached for the headboard to brace himself, hovering directly over the other man's face.

There was no hesitation--as soon as his cock sprung free of its confines, Tony took it in hand and guided it unerringly into his mouth, then deep into the back of his throat, shifting up to make the angle more conducive. It was a gift, Tony’s ability to handle that much cock. A _skill._ Another reason why this realm hadn’t completely made him insane in the past year.

Loki’s thrusts were slow but deep, measuring Tony’s responses carefully to make certain his airway wasn’t being obstructed--more than he liked, of course. The mortal had an impressive ability to stifle his own breathing for another’s pleasure. For Loki’s pleasure. That Loki could see the light from the arc reactor silhouetting where Tony took him in, where they were joined, only enhanced his pleasure, and he grunted as he thrust even more harshly, rough into Tony’s throat.

And then he felt the bright, blue-flame ache of Tony’s hands grabbing and squeezing his swatted cheeks, and--that was all it took. With a single, long cry, Loki pushed in one last time, head of his cock fitted to Tony’s throat like a key to a lock, and held as the ecstasy finally, mercifully crested. Loki scrabbled at the headboard with graceless fingers, watching the one servicing him intently as he was given over to pulse mindlessly into that mouth, that throat--Tony’s quick swallows only extending the welcome torment.

Tony. So _gifted._

Panting, he pulled back just enough to relieve Tony’s breathing and allow the man to clean him gently with his tongue. Didn’t hear the question he was asked when Tony finally pulled free--just murmured a “hm?” in response as he rolled onto his back, pleased at avoiding the mess Tony had made of himself while watching the surveillance footage. He thought briefly of returning the favor and getting a towel to clean Tony up--thought and forgot about it, honestly.

 _Too much trouble._ And he liked Tony messy.

“I said, ‘That good, huh?’ What Steve did to you?” Tony clarified. “Roll over and let me take a look.” Loki did, still mostly mindless, and snorted at the low whistle he earned. The marks must be impressive, indeed. “Wow, he really did a number on you.” Tony’s hand was soft now, touching Loki’s ass lightly and giving it a gentle stroke. When Tony spoke again, his voice was only a little hesitant: “It was okay, then?”

“Oh, yes,” Loki sighed. “It was lovely.” He thought about the tone of Tony’s voice, then lifted his head and gave Tony a curious look. “No regrets?”

“Uh, seeing you wiggling half-naked over Captain Fucking America’s lap?” Tony threw an arm across his eyes. “Yeah, no. _Nooo_ regrets,” he emphasized.

“Good.” Loki regarded him. “Because I was thinking ... “

He waited until he was sure he had Tony’s complete attention. Then:

“I may need to make amends with Banner next.”

If Loki had any concerns about Tony's reaction, about his ultimate opinion of what Loki had done, Tony's reply mitigated them. Because Loki only got a surprised laugh in response, and then a bright smile. 

“Oh, baby," Tony said, "I _love_ the way you think.”

***  
Natasha fished a can of Dr Pepper out of the therapeutic stash in her refrigerator. As Steve took it from her and hunched back into himself on her sofa, she said, “You could have said no.” Shrugged, and cracked open her own can. “You know?” They all knew what Loki didn’t, which was that his spanking fetish had been well documented even during Stark’s initial kidnapping and only recorded in more loving detail in the months since.

Steve just looked at her in response, expression half-embarrassed, half-amused. Spread his hands in a helpless gesture. Finally, taking mercy on him, she said, “Yeah, fine--spanking the God of Mischief. ... That is pretty much at the top of everyone's bucket list.”

Steve just nodded with a pointed “mm-hm.” And they settled in to drink their sodas in thoughtful, and slightly conflicted, silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, if I'm majoring in slash, I must have a concentration in [spanking fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=Spanking&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&user_id=hannahrhen). ... Um, whatever?
> 
> [Find me on tumblr](http://hannahrhen.tumblr.com), where I rant and rave over how awesome everyone else's fic is and bang my head against the wall about my own.


End file.
